


The Good Doctor - Sixth Sense

by Soquilii9



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Appendectomy, Diagnosis, Gen, Shaun's childhood, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 08:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12428586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soquilii9/pseuds/Soquilii9
Summary: Shaun has a sixth sense which makes him an excellent diagnostician.I really hate the character of Melendez although he's an excellent antagonist, which of course every story needs.  While acknowledging his skill, I contend he thinks he's infallible and resents Shaun unreasonably for contradicting him.I may not always make Shaun the hero but in my stories, he'll be on that pedestal most of the time.  While I am not on the autism spectrum I've experienced a lot of what he has suffered and I can relate.





	The Good Doctor - Sixth Sense

 

 

 

 

‘What have we here?’ Melendez queried to no one in particular, studying the chart of a little boy admitted that morning.  He passed off the chart to the only one of his team of three residents with whom he had absolutely no rapport – in fact, he resented the young man almost past the point of professionalism.

‘Tell me what you see, Murphy.  Read what’s right in front of you and make a diagnosis.’

As Shaun Murphy diligently studied the chart, his mind bifurcated...

~~~

Suddenly he was twelve years old again and sitting at the kitchen table at home, struggling with his homework.  Seventh grade in another new school had become difficult after only a month.  Once his classmates caught on to the fact that he had some sort of disorder - one they didn’t understand; one that scared them _because_ they didn’t understand - things always turned sour.  It seemed to Shaun as if no one prepared anyone for anything; they were simply thrown together haphazardly to do the best they could with what they were given.  Why did no one explain to them that he was different?  In the strange hierarchy of junior school, those who were different were always relegated to the bottom.  It didn’t seem fair to Shaun.  Many things did not seem fair to Shaun.

Shaun had successfully completed both his algebra and science homework and had bravely begun the assignment on social studies.  It was to him like diving into a muddy pool where answers were no longer clear.  His mother cast a wary glance toward the living room where her husband was watching football.  Smoke from his cigarette curled toward the ceiling and the bottle of beer on the chair side table was nearly empty.  Seeing Shaun’s difficulty, she came to sit beside him at the dining room table.  Steve, her younger son, had completed his homework and was outside playing with the neighborhood children.

‘What’s wrong, Shaun?’

‘This is the story of a lady.  She’s riding the bus.  She’s not doing anything wrong but they arrested her and she went to jail.  It’s not _fair!’_ Shaun began rocking in his seat as was his wont in times of stress or when he was anxious.

‘I remember this from when I was growing up.  The lady was Rosa Parks.  She became famous for riding that bus, Shaun.  Do you know why?’

‘Why,’ Shaun repeated in a monotone.

‘She refused to let people run all over her.  She stood up for herself and for what was right.  Read slowly, Shaun.  Read what’s right in front of you; you’ll understand.’

‘Is he not doing his homework?!’ yelled her husband in the next room.

‘Yes, yes he is.  He just had a question.’

‘He never has questions!  Just _dumb answers!_   I swear, if that kid gets thrown out of _one more school_ – !‘

Shaun’s mother tried to placate her husband.  ‘He won’t.  Shaun is trying hard.  Just give him a chance.’

Her husband stubbed his cigarette and walked out onto the porch, slamming the door behind him.  Shaun’s reaction was to flee to his room, take his beloved brown rabbit from its cage and stroke it tenderly.  His mother followed.  She watched him sitting on his bed, seemingly vacant eyes staring at nothing, self-comforting as he usually did after one of his father’s outbursts.

She couldn’t hold back her tears.

~~~

Melendez stood waiting impatiently.  Murphy’s eyes were glued to the chart and he seemed to have departed for Mars.

‘Murphy.  _Murphy_ , we have other patients to see.  Murphy, _make a diagnosis_.’

‘Eight-year-old boy admitted for possible appendicitis.  White count nine thousand.  Temperature normal.’  Shaun rattled off the facts as if by rote.

‘That’s right.  All his tests came back with a low probability of a hot appy.  I’m going to put him under observation.’

‘May I see the boy.’

‘I’ve already seen him.  Murphy, we’re wasting time here.’

‘I would like to see the boy myself,’ Shaun stated firmly, eyes locked on the patterns in the ceiling tiles.

Dr. Melendez heaved a long-suffering sigh.  _This kid got through medical school and his internship and he can’t learn to look someone in the eye?_  ‘All right,’ he conceded.  ‘But don’t say a word until we get back out into the hallway.  I don’t want you scaring an eight-year-old boy.  _Or_ his parents.  You understand?’

‘I understand,’ Shaun replied, rocking on his heels and clasping the chart.  ‘I don’t want the boy to be scared, either.’  He handed the chart to Dr. Melendez.  Together they entered the room.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I… wanted to introduce you to one of my residents, Dr. Shaun Murphy.  Since this is a teaching hospital, I would like for him to examine Eugene.’

The parents nodded their assent.

But Shaun didn’t approach the bed.  He didn't acknowledge the parents; the mother seated; the father standing nervously.  He didn’t touch the patient nor palpate his abdomen as Dr. Melendez had done.  He merely stared at the boy.  A minute went by.

Somewhat puzzled, Dr. Melendez tapped Shaun’s arm with the chart.  Shaun flinched.  ‘You done, Murphy?’

‘Yes.  I am ready to make a diagnosis.’  Shaun halted and Melendez could see, for once, the wheels turning behind those strange eyes.  ‘We should talk outside.’

Without a word or a glance toward the parents, Shaun exited the room and stood waiting a few steps away from the door.  Melendez nodded toward the parents and assured them that he would return momentarily with a treatment plan.  He gently shook Eugene’s hand and impulsively felt his forehead.  _No fever.  The tests were correct.  It was going to be observation.  Murphy damn sure better make the same diagnosis._

~~~

‘What is your _very learned_ opinion, Doctor?’

‘You are being sarcastic.  This is sarcasm.  I am learning to detect it!’  Shaun’s cautious grin shone on his face.  He was very pleased with himself.

‘Yes, well, I wanted to know about Eugene Smith’s case.  What’s your diagnosis?’

‘Ruptured appendix with peritonitis.’

‘You’re not serious.’

‘It is.  It is very serious.  He’s a very sick boy.’

‘Every indication is negative.’

‘You are looking at the test results.  You are dependent on the test results.’

‘I wouldn't say _dependent_ , but test results are usually indicative.’

‘Are you trying to teach me by _testing_ me, Dr. Melendez.’

Melendez stuck the chart under one arm and folded his arms, glaring at Shaun, who continued.  ‘With all due respect, Dr. Melendez.  You did look at the patient.  But did you see the patient.’

Melendez lowered his voice to almost a whisper but he was shouting, nonetheless.  Murphy was getting on his nerves like he usually did.  _‘Murphy, start making sense.’_

‘Did you notice the way the boy – Eugene – kept his right knee bent.  Did you see that he wasn’t moving his abdomen at all when he breathed.  He was mouth-breathing.  Did you get a look at how dry his tongue was.  The boy has peritonitis.  He needs to be placed on the surgery schedule.’

‘With a white count of only nine thousand and no fever?’

‘With all due respect, Dr. Melendez…’  Shaun hesitated.  This was dangerous territory.  His mother’s words came back to him about the brave lady who refused to give up her seat.  _She refused to let people run all over her.  She stood up for herself and for what was right._ ’With all due respect, Dr. Melendez... try looking at the patient instead of the chart.  The chart isn’t sick.’

Dr. Melendez looked long and hard at Shaun.  Without a word, he turned and went into the young patient’s room.  A few minutes passed.  From out in the hallway, Shaun could hear him talking to the parents and their unintelligible replies.

‘We’ll be putting Eugene on the schedule immediately; he's going to the OR in just a few minutes.  ...  Yes, he will need surgery to remove his appendix and there may be complications.  ...  No, this kind of surgery is common and with the antibiotics we have now it's not as serious as it once was.  You have nothing to worry about.  ...  Eugene, we’re going to do everything we can to make sure you're playing soccer again as soon as you're well!’

Hospital personnel passing Shaun in the hallway saw that he was standing quite still, fingers clasped, but his face was almost animated and he was cautiously smiling.

~~~

The surgery was successful.  Shaun’s diagnosis had been correct.  However, Melendez didn’t invite Shaun into the operating room on the case, not even for suction.  He _did_  however, meet with Dr. Glassman later that day over a cup of coffee.  He related the facts of the case to the hospital's president.

‘I will admit,’ Melendez said grudgingly, ‘that your protégé seems to have a sixth sense.  He’s becoming a good diagnostician.’

‘I’m glad you’re giving him some credit, at long last,’ replied Dr. Glassman with a straight face.  Inside, he was positively elated.

 

THE END


End file.
